


Blow

by MargotKhan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Come play, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Happy Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Voyeurism, aka the best sex, also just a little bit, just a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:43:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargotKhan/pseuds/MargotKhan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer months had begun to drown out memories of cold and snow with blistering warmth, and you could practically see the heat rising up from the dirty Brooklyn streets. Steve had spent all day on his feel at the newsstand, and his skin felt thick with a dried layer of sweat. He couldn’t even think about getting cleaned up, not with the sheets now under his back, worn from years of use, and the single pillow that smelled like Bucky when Steve buried his face in it.</p><p>Or, Bucky walks in on Steve masturbating and decided to join in the fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic saved on my computer forever and decided to finally edit it up and publish it. I edited this very late at night, and all errors are mine and mine alone.  
> Yes the title is pulled from the Beyonce song, because who cares about subtlety?

        Steve lets out a bone deep sigh as he falls back onto his and Bucky's bed, awkwardly shimmying out of his shoes and pants from the horizontal angle. Their single, tiny window is propped open with an old hardcover in an attempt to air out the place. The summer months had begun to drown out memories of cold and snow with blistering warmth, and you could practically see the heat rising up from the dirty Brooklyn streets. Steve had spent all day on his feel at the newsstand, and his skin felt thick with a dried layer of sweat. He couldn’t even think about getting cleaned up, not with the sheets now under his back, worn from years of use, and the single pillow that smelled like Bucky when Steve buried his face in it. He took a deep breath and let the feeling of comfort and home and _Bucky_ fill his lungs.

         Breathing was one of the best things about summer, the warm air making Steve’s lungs seem as healthy as they ever could, the extra oxygen making him feel light and hyperaware of the skin wrapped over his fragile bones. The clock on the wall said Bucky wouldn’t be home for another hour as Steve slid a hand down his chest and past the worn out elastic of his drawers, slipping them off. He never used to do this in bed, the threat of Bucky walking in not worth the risk, no matter how arousing the thought was. Steve wasn’t what anyone would have called modest, but he did have his limits, and having Bucky hear his jagged breathing and the slide of skin against skin had been one of them up until about a month ago, when Steve had finally gotten up the courage to kiss Bucky, standing in his underwear in the middle of their tiny kitchen. Steve smiles and moves his hand a bit faster on his cock, thinking about Bucky's mouth on his skin. Steve no longer had to imagine what Bucky's lips felt like, how his skin tasted after a day in the sun, all his long held fantasies now replaced with memories.

         Steve buries his nose a bit deeper into their pillow, breathing in the smell of Bucky's skin when he starts to breath harder, his hips canting up from the mattress a bit on every stroke. He’s so caught up in the fog of lust inside his own head that he doesn’t hear the door open and close. His eyes snap open, however, when he hears a gasp that’s not his own, and he looks across the room to see Bucky standing by the door, hand still on the nob and eyes wide. Steve freezes on the bed, hips still lifted a bit in the air. Bucky's cheeks go from pale to pink as he looks over Steve spread out on their bed. He lifts his hand to the lock, turning it with a snap that echo’s loud in the silent apartment.

         “Don’t stop.” Bucky says quietly, his eyes gone dark as he looks across the room at Steve in the fading sunlight.

         Steve lets out a gush of breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding and his hips hit the mattress with a little bounce, the springs creaking, as he begins to slowly move his hand again, eyes never leaving Bucky’s from across the room. He’d be lying if he said he’d never come with a fist in his mouth thinking about Bucky standing in that very spot, eyes full of heat and lust, focused on nothing but Steve.

         Reality is even better though, because Bucky's slowly moving towards their bed, his hands making sporadic fists at his sides. It seems to take years for him to cross the few feet to stand at the end of the mattress.

         “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Bucky says quietly as he kneels at the end of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight, still dressed all the way down to his shoes. He slides one callused hand between Steve legs and gently pulls them apart. Steve’s pretty sure he could come just like this, with Bucky slowly moving down between his thighs, eyes wide and pupils blown as he stares intently at Steve’s loose first moving along his cock. He wets his lips subconsciously when a bead of precome catches the edge of Steve's thumb. Bucky moves his hand down Steve’s thigh to the crease of his leg, listening to Steve’s sharp intake of breath. He glances up at Steve’s face and doesn’t see an ounce of shame or trepidation, his eyes half lidded and a bit unfocused with what Bucky knows is lust, so he reaches down to wrap his hand over Steve’s fingers still working over his cock. The moan that fills the quiet room has Bucky looking up at Steve in shock for a split second before shushing him. Steve lets out a breathy laugh and Bucky flexes the fingers he has wrapped around Steve’s hand, adding unexpected pressure on an upstroke and Steve's back forms a perfect arc off the mattress despite his bad spine, and he makes even more noise than before.

         “You want the neighbors to know what you’re gettin’ up to?” Bucky asks in a stage whisper and Steve giggles, an honest to God giggle’. He opens his eyes to look at Bucky between his thighs, and laughs harder when he sees the dirty grin on Bucky's face a split second before he tightens his hand again.

         “Oh, fuck you Barnes.” Steve manages to gasp, but the adoration in his voice betrays any attempt at reproach. Bucky can hear it too, and he laughs as well, placing a wet open-mouthed kiss on the side of one pale, boney knee. Just like that any tenseness left in the room fades away. Bucky smiles to himself, genuine and happy having Steve this close, and pulls Steve’s fingers faster against the damp skin of his cock, just to see what will happen. Steve's body is still new for him to explore, and the whimper that slips past Steve’s lips reminds Bucky that he’s still in his work clothes, the only pressure against his now straining cock the tight zipper of his pants. He reaches the hand not on Steve down to yank his belt off and his pants down. His hips jerk forward a bit without him thinking about it, and Steve whimpers slightly as he pulls his cock from his underwear, as flushed as Steve’s is at this point.

         “Bucky I’m gonna—“ Steve's breathy voice pulls Bucky's attention away from his own arousal and back to Steve underneath him.

         “Don’t come yet.” His own voice is starting to sound wrecked, so worked up over the simple act of watching and being allowed to touch. “Don’t you come yet baby.”

         Steve nods and digs his teeth into his full bottom lip, worrying the skin until it turns red, hoping the sharp little sting will help distract from the pressure building all the way down to his toes. It doesn’t.

         “Bucky I’m— I can’t—“ Steve sucks in a strangled breath as he tries to focus on anything besides the firm grip guiding his hand, tries not to come before Bucky says so. His thighs shake and press tight into into Bucky's sides, his ankles locking around Bucky's lower back.

         “Bucky, I’m gonna come.” Steve whines, and Bucky carefully unwraps his fingers from around Steve’s, drawing the tip of his thumb across the slit, the slide of precome against his finger making the world go a bit crooked. He leans down quickly while Steve’s still working himself over and pulls the head of Steve’s cock into his mouth, running his tongue lightly around the head before hollowing his cheeks.

         Steve’s fairly sure he blacks out for a solid minute, the only thing he can think of the feeling of his fist lightly bumping against Bucky's full lips as he comes. It takes a bit for Steve to stop gasping, his body still wound tight as tiny tremors make their way through his fingers and thighs and now softening cock. He opens his eyes when he hears a familiar, high pitched whine and feels Bucky's come, wet and warm, hit the back of his thighs.

Bucky stays knelt over Steve’s hips like a man at an alter while his breathing evens out, leaning back on his shins while he wipes at his mouth. He looks about as blissed out as Steve does, a tiny bit of Steve come catching at the corner of his lips as he grins down at Steve, happy and sated. Steve laughs, a light, airy thing as he grabs at Bucky's shoulders, pulling him down to lay gently over his sweaty chest. His mouth tastes salty from Steve and bitter from the cigarette he always had on his walk home, and Steve runs his tongue along the inside of Bucky's bottom lip. Bucky hums into Steve’s mouth, rising up on his elbows to kiss over Steve’s neck, earning another soft giggle when he runs his tongue behind Steve’s ear.

         “You’re home early.” Steve says, twisting a bit of Bucky's hair around his fingers, the early evening sunlight making the lighter strands look almost auburn.

         “Lucky me.” Bucky chuckles into Steve’s collarbone, earning a tug on the shorter hairs at his nape.

         Bucky burrows deeper into Steve’s neck, rolling to the side to pull Steve against his chest while grabbing the ratty blanket off the floor next to the bed, tossing it over them both and pulling it up around Steve’s shoulder despite the heat. Steve wants to push Bucky away, he’s still half in his work clothes and they’re both in dire need of a shower at this point, but when Bucky leans up to kiss Steve’s mouth, tender and soft, he figures it won't hurt to stay in bed just a bit longer.


End file.
